7/11 a holiday for Cheapskates

I'd like to inform all of you American Consumers, that today, July 11th (7/11) is free Slurpee day!

Go on!
Hurry on over to your local 711 and indulge in a complimentary slurpee.




you can thank me later.

Talking shit about a pretty sunset

I'm always drowning myself in my music, whether I'm primping and prepping for my day, sulking during the night, or rocking out in LA Traffic... There's always a time and a place for a theme song.

I've always been a Modest Mouse fan. In fact, (along with Pixies and Nirvana) they're up there in Brynn's Top 5 All Time Favorite Bands. I may be biased because we - those bands, and myself - all originate from the Great grey, and rainy, Northwest. I'm mostly fanatical about their (Modest Mouse's) stuff from the mid/late 90's. Their newer stuff I feel has strayed from their roots, and is a bit watered down in regards to their original style. Although I will give them props for a few oustanding songs on their latter albums.

Lately, I find myself reaching back to 1996; plucking this song out of their "This Is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About" Album, wondering if Isaac Brock attains certain psychic capabilities. Most Likely not. And I'm being Melodramatic. But please enjoy.

Oh noose tied myself in, tied myself too tight
Looking kind of anxious in your cross armed stance
Like a bad tempered prom queen at a homecoming dance
And I claim I'm not excited with my life anymore
So I blame this town, this job, these friends
The truth is it's myself
And I'm trying to understand myself
And pinpoint where I am
By the time I get things figured out
I've change the whole damn plan
Oh noose tied myself in, tied myself too tight
Talking shit about a pretty sunset
Blanketing opinions that i'll probably regret soon
I've changed my mind so much I can't even trust it
My mind changed me so much I can't even trust myself

bridging the gap

Remember the cliched term you've heard on the playground, seen on after school specials, and shouted out to your verbally threatening siblings; "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" ?

Well, I've recently tried applying that to myself, "If you can't blog about anything nice, then don't blog at all."

Obviously, if you've ever read my blog. You're probably thinking that I am full of shit, and a complete hypocrite, aren't I always spewing out my problems? The answer is yes. But- Am I able to laugh about it. Most usually. So I've realized that I if I haven't been able to laugh about it yet, then don't waste any energy writing about it. ( ok, for the most part)

My last couple weeks have brought me some glorious adventures and I realized, I've yet to report on my trip to San Francisco! My last weekend in June was Celebrated as my first getaway to the S.F. I embraced the city with abundance. The city - to me- has a very European feel to it, it's got loads of character within each different district.

I mustn't only credit the home of the Golden Gate Bridge for my outstanding experience- for it wouldn't have been the same without the great company I was in.

The six- hour road trip, with Miss Valorie Darling, was candid and delightful, as the clock struck hour by hour, we found ourselves getting more acquainted with each other on many different levels. Miss Darling and myself now share stories that shall never leave the four doors of her snazzy little Prius.

Upon arrival, fragrant of dewy feet and humid armpits, We were greeted by each of our best friends. (It just so happens that I met Valorie working in Los Angeles, and she was college roommates with one of my best friends Jenn in Oregon! Now, Jenn lives in San Francisco, along with Valorie's best friend Erin. Get it? Got it? Good!) Being that it was almost 1am, and we were tired, hungry, and sweaty we retired and called it a night. Jenn and I cuddled up under a bundle of covers and whispered the night away detailing all of the "Who's, where's, and what's" since we last saw each other.

The weekend was spent on an ultimate high, you know that buzz that you get when you're back with a familiar face, picking right back up where you left off. You get each other, you share history with one another, and are able to reminisce on the good old days while soaking up the laughter and comfort of present. Jenn took me on the ultimate tour. We lunched at the Pier, trekked around the must- see spots, did some Vintage shopping, and we even consummated our special weekend, by purchasing friendship bracelets on Haight St.

I was so sad to go, leaving me so excited to go back.




Oh, and no, we never got around to re enacting the opening scene of Full House. But I did keep my peepers peeled for John Stamos look-a-likes.

no, really

Tonight, I spoke with my mom on the phone.
I told her I'm about to lose my marbles, and do something completely insane.

Unaware of what exactly I will do, I simply informed her that she'll probably see me on the news, and feel completely ashamed of me being her daughter.


enough said.

How to lose 6 inches in 60 minutes.

For the last... I don't know- fragment of my life, if I received a dollar for every time someone referred to me as a hippie, I'd probably have a nice wad of cash.

Today, I finally said goodbye and made peace with my mane. I personally am not one of those people that gets super attached to their hair, I actually happen to neglect giving much attention to it at all, and before I know it I am able to tuck it into my waist belt and or/ tie it over and around my lady lumps, sporting my locks as a halter top. Even when Andrew and I distance ourselves, hovering over opposite sides of the bed, I still find myself demanding he ought to "Get off of my hair!". Through my agent harassing me to sever off a minimum of 4 inches, my split ends dusting off Andrew's nightstand, and fellow lovers of Peace, not war- asking me for a doobie: It was time to Leave my hair with the dust in the wind, at Woodstock '69.

While I was leaving the salon, a woman and her daughter entered with an extreme response to the shag carpet I had recently installed.
*GASP*
"WOW! SO MUCH HAIR!!!"

As If they thought "Hair" secretly meant "Dentist" and "Salon" was code for "Office", expecting to be welcomed in by the redundant melodies of Sheryl Crow, the aromas of sour bubblegum & rubber gloves, and instead of seeing the floors sporadically upholstered by freshly chopped locks , they expected to see the Walls smothered by photos of Awkwardly smiling teens freshly liberated from their damaging alias "Brace Face".

Hair? In a Salon? Noooo!?

I contemplated informing the woman we had finished watching 101 Dalmatians in the backroom, and through inspiration; murdered a golden retriever in hopes to make a nice fur coat for Fall/Winter '08.

(please, Vegans and Vegetarians, I am one of your kind. And have been for quite some time. I just dabble in tasteless humor from time to time. Please forgive me.)

The unforgiving glare she tossed over at my moccasins, told me she wouldn't so much appreciate my comment, for once I thought before I spoke, and went on my Jolly way, realizing: I now may have to wear a bra, because my hair no longer covers my little breasts.


damn.

an old friend stopped by

My mono has relapsed.
Somebody shoot me.

Dos

I wish there were two of me.
I'd be a whole lot more productive.
I think my mid-life mind is overheating